


Ebb and Flow

by yuletide_archivist



Category: IT - Stephen King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-19
Updated: 2006-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With every mile, more memories of the ordeal in Derry faded away, but neither Ben nor Beverly noticed.  They were too busy filling in the spaces between then and now.  (Warning for memory of attempted rape)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ebb and Flow

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Sidewinder who beta'd for me! This was a fun challenge; I love It, and I love Ben/Beverly. I'm glad I got to figure out what might have happened next.   
>  As an aside, the attempted rape by Greg Mallory is referenced in the book. I didn't make that character or situation up.
> 
> Written for KevBot

 

 

With every mile, more memories of the ordeal in Derry faded away, but neither Ben nor Beverly noticed. They were too busy filling in the spaces between then and now, discussing the movies they'd seen, the places they'd been, the normal day-to-day patter of two people connecting.

"You're kidding. When were you in Chicago?" Beverly said, watching Ben as he drove. He was handsome. No, more than that - he was _beautiful_ in his worn chambray shirt and faded blue jeans, his blond hair shining in the sun. He had always been there for her, loving her from afar, and now shivers crept up her spine when she imagined a life free from danger. A life with Ben by her side.

"In 1975," he said, stealing a glance at her before shifting his eyes back to the road. He did that frequently, and each time he did, Beverly's heartbeat sped up slightly. "It was the first time I was in charge of the design and construction of an entire building on my own."

"Which one?"

"The Regency Arms. It's a hotel."

"Ben," she said, with a laugh, "I walked by your construction site every day. I lived down the street from the Regency."

"No kidding? If I'd seen you, I think I'd have had to remember you."

"But none of us remembered anyone then."

"No," he said, and his cheeks flushed pink, "I mean, I'd have remembered you if I'd seen you. Because, well, you know. You're _you_. I'd have remembered." He did not steal a glance then, but instead kept his eyes firmly on the road.

"Thank you, Ben," she said softly. Then because his cheeks grew even pinker, she changed the subject. "Tell me about London. Did you like living there? I've never been, but I'd like to go one day."

In between bouts of conversation, they lapsed into comfortable silences as the Cadillac smoothed down the interstate. During those quiet moments, Beverly remembered while she forgot, as a new reality shaped itself around her.

For Bev, the horrors of It were not the only horrors in her life, and some of these would not fade as conveniently as those born in the darkness of the sewers. She knew Tom was dead, but she couldn't recall exactly how this had come to be. It didn't matter any more, though. Ben was with her, they were driving west, and she was _safe_ for the first time in her life. If only she had found Ben sooner, how different things could have been, how good it would have been to not have her hair pulled, her face slapped,  
her body  
her body slammed

__her body slammed against the wall and Greg yanked her arm up behind her back.  
  
"Godammit, you fucking bitch," he slurred, the alcohol on his breath a palpable, stinging fog in her nostrils. His heavy body leaned into hers, pinning her, and his erection pressed against her buttocks. "I said I wanted to fuck, so we're going to fuck. You hear me? I know you want it."  
  
He jerked up on her arm and she screamed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, Greg, stop hurting me. Please..."  
  
Bev had thought she loved the brute behind her. He was so handsome, so charming. This frat party had shown her his true colors. She hadn't wanted to sleep with him, not so soon, but she knew she'd have to. In the morning, he might want her or he might not, but for now he wanted her. 

(slutchild) 

__He let go of her arm and turned her around. His hands clumsily found her breasts. "I didn't mean to hurt you, baby. Now come on. Get out of those clothes."  
  
"Please, can't we take this slow? I l- like you a lot, but please, can't we-" Her high-pitched, panicked voice was cut off with a hard slap that left her ears ringing.  
  
"Hey, what's going on in here?" Beverly looked past Greg's bulk to see Dave Simms standing at the door. Dave was a Kappa Sigma because his father and his grandfather were, but he'd always been more interested in his studies than in parties. Unlike Greg, Dave was a gentleman.  
  
"Fuck off, Simms. I'm busy," Greg snarled over his shoulder.  
  
"Is he bothering you?" Dave asked Beverly.  
  
Bev shook her head no automatically, her eyes fearful and bright with tears.  
  
Dave watched her closely and then stepped into action. "Get off her, Mallory."   
  
The scuffle was over in moments. While Greg had size and strength over Dave, Dave was not impaired by copious amounts of alcohol consumed. He roughly escorted Greg out of the room. A few moments later, he returned.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked Beverly, who wiped away her tears as best she could the moment the door opened.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. He just had too much to drink. It was my fault for- for not-" She started crying again. "I'm sorry. I jus -"  
  
Dave gently took her arm. "A beautiful woman like you should never have to take crap like that." His eyes flickered down to the floor, and Beverly knew in an instant that chubby, bookish Dave Simms loved her. "Will you let me walk you home?"  
  
"Okay. That would be really good. I'm pretty much out of the party mood."  
  
They ended up stopping at an all-night diner for coffee on the way. As they talked the night 

(and the dark) 

__away, Bev couldn't shake the feeling that Dave reminded her of someone she knew a long time ago. She couldn't remember who that someone was, though, and for some reason, she thought of birds in flight whenever she tried.  
  
Dave was nice to her, respectful, and he made sure she got home safely. But she knew that when Dave asked her out - and he would, the next week - she would say no, because deep down she'd been twisted into believing she didn't deserve a man like him.  
  
She needed someone who would worry about her.  
  
A lot. 

Bev snapped out of the recollection when she realized the car had come to a stop on the side of the pine-lined road. Ben had turned in the driver's seat, watching her with concern.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low so as not to startle her.  
  
She nodded her head, and as the tears stung her eyes, she lifted a hand to wipe them fiercely away.  
  
"Hey, hey," he said, reaching for her hand. "We're safe. It's dead this time."  
  
"I wasn't- I wasn't remembering that," she whispered.  
  
"Tom?" Ben spat out the name as if it were poison.  
  
She nodded her head. Because they were all Tom, all the men who beat her, who hurt her, who made her feel like dirt. They were all Tom, and they were all her father and in a way, they were _all_ a part of It.  
  
His blue eyes softened and he squeezed her hand. "Bev?"   
  
She raised her head, her eyes leaking tears. "Yeah?"  
  
"Tom's gone, too." A look of confusion passed over his face, then.   
  
"You don't remember how he died either, do you?"  
  
"No, it's not clear in my mind. It was under the Barrens, when we-" He shook his head as if to clear it.  
  
"We're forgetting again, aren't we?" It was a blessing, really, but Bill - how on earth could she forget Bill again? Or Eddie? Or Richie or Mike or Stan?   
  
"I think we might be. I'm- I can't say I'm not relieved to forget parts of it."  
  
Bev laughed. "I hope we don't forget each other. That would be awkward since we're driving to Nebraska together."  
  
Ben didn't respond with laughter, but in all seriousness said, "We might forget some things, but I won't forget who you are to me. Not now. Not ever."  
  
He made a slight movement, as if to lift her hand to his lips, but then stopped. She noticed, and decided to make her feelings clear to Ben once and for all. It was time to wake up from the nightmares and allow herself to be loved by a good man who neither wished to control her nor hurt her.  
  
"If we do forget what happened in Derry, we'll make new memories we can't forget," she said, lifting Ben's hand to her lips and pressing a kiss upon it.  
  
A moment of frozen time stretched between them. Ben broke it by sliding across the leather expanse of front seat to cup Beverly's face in his hands. She leaned into his work-calloused palms and sighed. Ben was different from Bill, and she was glad of it. Ben was hers, and she could give herself to him in a way she'd never given herself to a man, not even to Bill.  
  
They moved as one into the kiss. Beverly pressed against Ben, her hand trailing down the hard muscles of his chest to rest at his waistline. The flesh of his belly was soft, an echo of the fat of years gone by. When her hand went a little farther down, she felt a different kind of hardness altogether.  
  
He moaned softly when her lips opened to his tongue, and she smiled into the kiss. A familiar power welled up between them, encasing them both within the ebb and flow of shared passion. From behind her closed eyelids, birds took flight from bare-limbed trees, and she was borne upward, her body arching in Ben's arms.  
  
Their first kiss broke long enough for Ben to whisper into her ear, "Love you, Beverly," before kissing his way down her neck.  
  
"Love you, too, Ben," she breathed, and she knew in a moment they'd have to stop, to part long enough to drive a little farther to a motel down the highway.  
  
She also knew now, knew for a certain fact, that sometimes you really _did_ make it through the long, dark night to find yourself in the light of day. 

 


End file.
